Ties and Flannel
Fandom: The Last of Us and The Mentalist
Rating: Mature-Angst, Smut, Fluff. Alternate Universe.
Central Characters: Joel Miller, Marcus Pike, Emma (OC)
Central Relationship: Joel, Marcus and Emma
Word Count: 1,947 (Short)
AO3
Please do not copy my work. If you liked it, please re-blog and tag me. Please do not steal my mood board. Stealing is just WRONG. I do not give permission to copy, translate, or post my work to any other platform.
This was for a writing challenge that I am so far behind on but with work and my muse taking dirt naps when the mood strikes, has made life a little difficult. This was for @mothandpidgeon, @schnarfer, and @whocaresstillthelouvre Three is the magic number challenge. I picked Joel, ask Freya, I will always be a Joel girl, but Marcus and road trip were the prompts I got from Mallory and so I took that and gave it a little spin. So, grab whatever tickles your tongue and give it a read. Or you can scroll on by.
Music Inspiration:
Out of Contorl-Oshins
The Words-Christina Perri
Tip of My Tongue-The Civil War
Glow-Omar Apollo
The Civil Wars - Poison & Wine
Raise The Dead-Rachel Rabin
Summary:
A lonely stretch of highway. A road trip gone wrong. A chance encounter. Emotional entanglement. Two men who were alone, now entangled with one woman, who broke through. A short story full of both darkness and tenderness. Both men forced to confront their past loneliness, trying to survive the emptiness, circling the warmth of one woman who accepts everything they are. The connection is unconventional, fragile but something they want.
Joel in bold, Emma in italics, Marcus in bold italics
The highway was a dark, endless stretch of road illuminated only by the truck’s headlights cutting through the night. Joel’s hand was firm on the wheel, his knuckles flexing as he navigated the familiar stretch home. She sat beside him, warm and content, one hand resting on his thigh. They were almost there, just a few more miles to their farm, tucked away from the world. They led a good life, a quiet life.
That’s when they saw him, a lone figure standing on the side of the road, beside a car that had clearly given up. Suit rumpled, tie loosened, and saddest look she’d ever seen on a human, like he had lost something important.
Joel pulled over with a sigh, glancing at her. “Stay in the truck.”
Arching a brow, she turned to look out the back window. “Joel, he’s in a suit for cryin out loud. He doesn’t look homicidal.”
“Ever meet a murderer?”
“Well no.”
“Then stay in the truck.”
“Fine.”
Joel grumbled as he got out. A brief exchange later, and the stranger, Marcus, was in the truck with them, explaining his situation. He was FBI headed to the nearest field office in the city, but his car had decided otherwise. Instead of leaving him stranded, they offered him a room for the night until he could get it taken care of in the morning. He hesitated at first, but the exhaustion in his eyes won over his pride.
He'd barely gotten his boots off when she crawled into his lap. He was what people called a man’s man. Fingers calloused, dirt in the lines of his neck and face, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, skin salty as she kissed right below his ear, his name a breathy whisper. Reaching between them, fingers quickly unzipped his jeans, feeling the hardness of him against her palm. Thick fingers of one hand pulled down the strap of her dress, exposing a breast, mouth latching onto an already erect nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth as the other had a handful of an ass cheek. A deep groan, almost a growl, reverberated through his body as she sank down, head thrown back, feeling him buried inside of her. She knew the chair would hold them both as she ground her hips against him, teeth now nipping at her other nipple as she grabbed the back of the chair, his fingers digging into her hips. That’s when she heard it, a creek of wood coming from the hallway. Lifting her head, eyes found Marcus’s as he stood in the hallway, mouth slightly hanging open, watching them. Her gaze held his as one hand moved to the back of Joel’s head, fingers now threading through curls, feet firmly planted on the floor, she began moving faster, harder, feeling her orgasm coming closer, and with a final thrust, it burned through her body, consuming her from the inside.
The farm was quiet that night, Marcus being given the spare room after they had dinner, Joel and Emma retreating to their own room after she’d shown him around. But Marcus couldn’t sleep, wandering the house, restless, lost in thoughts of yet another relationship gone sour. And then, he heard them.
The soft, breathy gasps. The low growl of Joel’s voice. The creak of wood.
He should’ve turned away. He should’ve left, gone outside, anything but what he did, standing in the hallway, watching through the barely open door. She knew he was there, meeting his gaze in the dim light, and for a second, he thought she might stop. But she didn’t. She wanted him to watch and he did, body betraying him as his cock grew hard within the borrowed sweats. It wasn’t until she collapsed against Joel that he shook his head, moving way from the door, going back to his room. Laying on the bed, the thought of masturbating was fleeting, sure instant gratification may have solved the immediate issue but it wouldn’t cure the long term one which was he was simply tired of being alone.
The house was quiet when Marcus came downstairs, sunlight cutting through the curtains in sharp stripes. At the counter stood her, barefoot, a mug of coffee in her hands, smiling when she saw him, calm and welcoming in a way that disarmed him.
“There’s muffins, coffee, and juice,” she said lightly. “Help yourself.”
He muttered his thanks, poured himself a cup, but he could feel her eyes on him—steady, knowing.
After a moment she spoke, her tone softer, heavier. “You watched.”
He froze, setting the mug down, fingers tightening around the handle. “Yes,” he admitted after a beat. “I did. I should’ve turned away but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” she replied, stepping closer, voice carrying something between challenge and comfort. “I see you, Marcus. You’ve been hurt. You walk around like you’ve got it under control, but there’s a piece of you that’s missing. That kind of emptiness,” Eyes caught his, unwavering. “It doesn’t scare me. It makes me want to help you.”
Her words cut deeper than he expected. For once, he didn’t have the sharp retort, the quick mask to hide behind. He just looked at her, lost.
“You don’t have to be alone,” she whispered. “Not with me.”
The air between them snapped, tight and electric. Marcus stepped forward before he could stop himself, and when his mouth found hers, the kiss was urgent, consuming. She met him without hesitation, matching him, pulling him further into the very thing he usually kept buried.
There was heat, there was darkness in the way he touched her, in the way he pressed her close—too much, too fast, but neither of them pulled away. For Marcus, control slipped like sand through his fingers. For her, it was a surrender laced with hunger.
And then, just as sudden, he broke away, breathing hard, guilt flashing in his eyes. But when he kissed her again, it was slower, gentler, as if trying to make amends for the storm he’d just unleashed.
By the time they finally parted, silence filled the kitchen, charged and irreversible. The control that he always seemed to want to have snapped before turned her around, his chest to her back, bending her over the kitchen table. Fingers traced along her spine before lifting up her dress, finding her bare beneath. She was in a position of submission and he couldn’t hold back any longer as one had freed himself from the sweats he was still wearing, slamming into her as fingers dug into her hips, knowing it would bruise the skin. What threw him off was her meeting this dark side of him, small gasps falling from her lips as her fingers curled around the edge of the table, those hips rising from the table to meet his thrusts.
Guilt burned in the pit of his stomach because he knew he was being rough with her and while sometimes that edge of darkness and possessiveness came out from somewhere but instinct told him she deserved better from him. Pulling out, hearing a slight whimper from her, watching as she moved to sit up, hands cupping his face, eyes searched his just before she kissed him again, holding him close. The tenderness and softness of her, had him melting against her, laying her back against the table, hands going under her knees as he slid back into her warmth. He’d lost time and space as she came apart beneath him, back arching off the warn out wood just before he exploded deep within the pliant body beneath him.
Hours later Joel came back, seeing Marcus leaning against the counter, phone tucked between ear and shoulder, a curt nod given before he went out back, seeing Emma on her knees in the garden, harvesting what she could before dark. She had the most intense look on her face, brows drawn together, as he knelt down, kissing her temple. Watching as she sat back on her heels, listening to what had happened after he’d left this morning. He knew deep down she had a free soul, one that loved everyone, accepted no matter what, the fact that she was still here after the way he’d treated her was proof of that. Anger seethed beneath the surface before he walked away, going to the barn, his heart at war with his head.
Marcus watched the two of them from the kitchen window, at war with himself. He’d come here by accident, but now he was tangled in something he never saw coming. He wasn’t a man who took things that weren’t his, and this? This felt dangerous. Not just for him, but for Joel, for her. If he stayed, he could ruin everything. He could step too far over a line none of them were ready to cross. But if he left? He’d be alone again. And he wasn’t sure he could take that, not after feeling what warmth felt like again.
She brought it up that night, curled up beside him in bed, fingers tracing lazy circles against his chest. “Marcus needs this, Joel.”
He tensed beneath her touch; jaw clenched. “I don’t share.”
Pressing a kiss to his skin, just over his heart. “You share with me.”
“That’s different.” His voice was tight, pained. Turning onto his side, away from her. He’d spent too many years alone, drowning in solitude, believing that was all there was for him. Then she came along, cracked him open, made him need again. Now she was asking him to let someone else in—to offer the same thing he never thought he’d have to another man.
“He’s alone, Joel,” she whispered. “Like you were.”
The words hit hard, burrowing deep into the part of him that still remembered what it was like to sit in the dark, drinking himself into a stupor just to keep the ghosts at bay. He hated how much sense she made. Hated that she saw through him so easily and he fought it. Hard.
It took two days before Marcus was able to leave, car being towed to the nearest city, leaving him to finally check in at the field office, telling himself the entire time that he wouldn’t return. That this wasn’t his life, wasn’t his place. But every mile that stretched between him and the farm felt wrong. Brain having the urge to tell the driver to go back to something he wasn’t sure he deserved.
But when the time came, he found himself driving back down that long stretch of highway, his heart pounding in time with the thought repeating in his head.
Don’t be alone. Not this time.
When he pulled up to the farm, she was sitting on the porch, doing the most mundane task of peeling potatoes, Joel sitting beside her. After shutting the car off, he sat there for a minute, arms crossed over the steering wheel, he watched them both stand. Joel’s expression unreadable, arms crossed, posture tense. Marcus hesitated before getting out of the car, knowing, he’d fought himself the entire drive back, trying to convince himself that he wasn't making a mistake. But then he saw Joel let out a slow breath, his shoulders lowering just slightly just before Emma reaching for his hand, squeezing gently. No words were needed as he got out of the car, Joel giving just a nod before he turned and walked inside, Emma coming down the steps, taking his hand in hers, a gentle kiss to his cheek before he let her lead him inside.
Dividers by @saradika-graphics I always find amazing things on your page. Thank you.
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